What's Behind
by immortalbeloved13
Summary: Carol and Daryl meet long before the world ends, and their encounter has lasting effects.
1. What's Behind

A/N: The idea for this one came to me while working on my other story, but I just couldn't fit this in. Essentially, I wanted Daryl and Carol to have some kind of past from before the Walkers showed up. I couldn't help myself, I guess.

The library in this story is real, but I picked it for its location. The interior is equal parts made up and based on another library that is near and dear to my heart.

Any and all comments/critiques are welcome and encouraged.

I own nothing!

**Chapter One: What's Behind**

Carol Peletier had not been to the Decatur Library in three years.

In that time, she had not been much of anywhere. Her travels were restricted to the bank, the supermarket, and the bookstore, the last one being the only concession her husband Ed had ever made her.

He didn't allow her to go anywhere else.

It upset him.

And that was the last thing she'd wanted to do.

The Decatur Library had been her "home" from the time she had been eighteen until the time Ed had charmed her away from her quiet little life three years before.

She'd been a good librarian, and she had loved her job.

Carol had loved her husband, too, albeit very briefly.

He didn't hit her or anything; at least, he hadn't yet.

But he was emotionally abusive, and that was just about as bad as being slapped around.

She shook her head, forcing herself to stop thinking about him.

He was away for two weeks, for his mother's funeral back in Tallahassee. He hadn't wanted to take her, and she hadn't exactly begged to go. Carol had no kin of her own, but no kin had to be better than what Ed had.

Carol wanted to leave him. She wanted to come home, and so she had. She needed this time to think, about what she really wanted out of life. For so long, it had been her work at the library, and she had come back to that, to see if it still was.

She squared her shoulders and went inside.

. . .

Daryl found himself an armchair and decided to get acquainted with the book he had found.

He hadn't been to the Decatur Library since he'd been a boy. His mother had brought him; it'd been the only trip they'd ever taken together. He'd always wanted to come back, but Merle would never hear of it.

Well, Merle was in Canada for the next few weeks on a hunting trip, so Daryl would do as he damn well pleased.

There never was much time for him to read these days, and he was no scholar, but he enjoyed a good story. His mother had instilled within him a love for history as well as legends, but most of all the thirst for any story worth spending some time with.

He had decided to start with _The Odyssey_. Momma had liked it, but hadn't let him read it when he was small.

Time to see what all the fuss had been about.

. . .

No one that Carol had known was working that day.

She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. She'd been very eager to see her old friends, but worried that they would notice the changes in her. She didn't look too different—she'd gotten much thinner since her marriage, but that was about it.

Carol was a different person now though. Before, she'd been outgoing, lively, and mile a minute. Now, she liked to be quiet and keep to herself. It wasn't a bad thing, but she hated how the change had come about.

Still, if she couldn't see her old friends, she could at least wander the stacks and get to know her favorite haunts again.

Her feet carried her up the stairs and to "Poetry" almost of their own accord.

She'd loved poems since she'd been a girl, and her father had read them to her often. First, as bed time stories, and then later, when the cancer began to take him, to prove to her that he was having a "good day." When he had died, she'd thought it would be too painful to indulge herself in those old verses anymore, but it had been quite the opposite. They were more dear to her then, and now, than ever before.

They were her last connection to the person she had once been.

The shelves were just as they had been in her time at the library, and she knew which volume she wanted. She reached out for it without having to search.

_Astrophil and Stella_, a sonnet sequence by Sir Philip Sidney. It was about a man's love for a married woman, and how it nearly drove him to despair. In the end though, he was right back beneath her window, spouting verses and hoping she'd love him back.

Carol used to dream about finding a clever and affectionate man like that, but clearly there was a difference between clever and cunning. One got you a good and interesting man, and the other got you an ogre who holed you up in the house.

Cursing herself for thinking about Ed, again, she shook her head and went over to a nearby balcony.

It had been her favorite spot. It overlooked the large reading area downstairs, and was populated by nice, squashy armchairs. There were floor to ceiling windows along one side, so there was always plenty of light to read by.

Most of her lunch breaks had been spent there, as well as much of her free time.

There was only one other person there. A man was sitting in a chair by the railing, with his feet up on one of the little tables. He was reading _The Odyssey_, and looking so absorbed that Carol decided not to say hello and disturb him.

She chose a seat not too far from him though.

Company, even silent and most likely unaware of her presence, was still company.

. . .

Daryl couldn't concentrate.

He'd fully expected the woman to give him a wide berth, just like everyone else always did. But she'd taken a seat not too far from him, and she looked pretty comfortable.

She was reading a book of poems, and had a small, gentle smile on her face.

He wasn't used to softness, and over the years he had come to scorn it, but he found that he was unable to look away from her. She was just so pretty, sitting there with the sunlight shining through her dark blond hair. Her eyes were light blue, and they were so intensely focused on the page in front of her.

Wasn't often he found himself staring at a woman for so long. Only time he ever bothered was when he was looking for some company for a little while. And those times had been far and few in between.

Her eyes shifted up ever so slightly, and Daryl forced his back to his book.

He hadn't come here to pick up some girl.

Besides, she wouldn't look twice at the likes of him anyway.

. . .

Carol felt his eyes on her and prayed that she wouldn't blush.

It had been a long time since a man had cast admiring eyes her way. The only times her own husband looked at her anymore were when he came home drunk and looking for release.

She shifted in her seat, raising her book as well as her eyes, getting a better look at him.

His eyes were on his own book again, but she saw the flush creeping up his neck.

He had been watching her.

She liked the deep blue of his eyes; they were so much darker than her own. And they looked kind enough, despite the tense way he was holding himself. He was probably a loner, like her. Though maybe not by choice either.

Carol had become accustomed to sadness in recent years, and she could feel it surrounding this man as well.

He wasn't handsome in a traditional sense, but she liked the strong planes of his face, and he was well built. Rugged. She supposed he was rugged.

She gave it another moment's thought, and decided that she would talk to him.

After all, if she was starting fresh, what better way was there than to make a new acquaintance?

. . .

Daryl couldn't believe he was actually having lunch with her.

She'd asked him what he was reading, they'd talked, his stomach had rumbled, and she'd asked him to the diner down the road.

Like he was actually somebody to have lunch with.

They looked over their menus, the waitress took their order, and suddenly it was too quiet. She was starting to fidget too, which made him feel a little bit better.

Her hands fluttered nervously over the tabletop for a second, before she began to wring them.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not used to this anymore, I guess. Going out. Talking to people."

He understood in an instant. He'd already noticed her ring finger—there was a band of pale skin, suggesting that she had recently removed her wedding ring. She was friendly enough, and he could see she was kind, but she was hesitant and skittish too.

"Does he hit you?"

Her hands stopped, and she dropped them into her lap. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was looking everywhere but at him.

"Carol?"

Her name on his lips was enough to startle her into looking up and answering him.

"No. He doesn't hit me. Nothing like that."

Daryl knew there were other ways to hurt a person, though.

"He just says things, sometimes. You know?"

He forced himself to hold her gaze.

"I do."

Their drinks came and silence reined for a moment.

"What brings you here Daryl?"

"Well, you brought me here."

Now she was smiling. Good.

"You know what I mean. You're some kind of smartass, aren't you?"

He smiled now too.

"I try."

"Don't avoid the question though. You can't shake me that easy."

"I'd say I'm here for the same reason you are: a little freedom. My brother's on a hunting trip up in Canada and it's been an awful long time since I had a break."

Her smile had faded some. He knew she understood him just then too. They were both damaged, so it was easy to spot in someone else.

"Does he hit you?"

It was Daryl's turn to be flustered, but he manned up and answered the question.

"Sometimes. He's got a sharp tongue too though. Think that might be worse some days. Depends on just how bad off he is."

"He drinks?"

"Yeah. And other things. But I'm the only one he's got left. I got to look out for him."

"Ed's all I've got left. Probably why I've stayed with him. Til now I guess."

She sighed.

"I'm just so tired Daryl."

He liked how his name sounded on her lips. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked so much to someone who wasn't Merle. And about such personal things. He didn't even know this woman. But he was tired too, and he needed someone like her.

"Well, how long you plannin' on stayin' in town?"

She shrugged.

"If I decide to go back to Ed, I've got the next twelve days. If not, I guess…for as long as I can."

She blushed again.

"I'm sorry. We just met, and here I am, dumping my troubles on you," she said, her eyes starting to shine with tears. "I just need someone I can talk to, I guess, and you're a good listener. I think."

Their food came, and she had a moment to compose herself.

"I'm here for a couple weeks. We can spend some more time together, if you want. Talk. Listen."

He hadn't expected to give the invitation, but found that he didn't want to take it back, not even a little bit.

Especially now that the tears had gone from her eyes and she was smiling at him again.

. . .

Carol had never expected to open up so much to a man she didn't actually know. And she would never have thought Daryl would share so much of himself with her. He just wasn't the type. But she supposed loneliness did things to a person.

They'd discovered they were staying at the same hotel, so they had agreed to meet up again around dinner time, after getting some rest.

She had returned to her room with every intention of taking a nap, but instead found herself agonizing over what she was going to wear.

There weren't any dresses in her suitcase. She never showed off her legs anymore. Besides, this wasn't a date. Maybe.

Finally, she settled on her favorite jeans and a nice blouse.

She was being silly. This wasn't some fairy tale, where Daryl was some hero come to save her from a dragon. He was just a man she had met, who happened to come from similar circumstances to her own. They were going out on the town as friends.

Not knowing exactly where they were going kept her fidgety and nervous until it was time for her to meet Daryl downstairs in the lobby.

. . .

Daryl was waiting for her when she stepped out of the elevator.

His throat went dry at the sight of her. She hadn't dressed up, but he was stunned by her simple beauty anyway. Her hair fell in loose curls to her shoulders, and she was glowing when she smiled at him.

For at least the hundredth time that day, he wondered what the hell was wrong with her, to be looking at him like that.

No one was ever glad to see him.

She was in front of him now; he had to say something.

"You look real nice."

Smooth.

Carol beamed at him anyway.

"Thank you," she said, her soft voice sending shivers up his spine.

"Figured we could walk out in the garden for a while? Then maybe we could have dinner here. Food's supposed to be good."

"That sounds lovely."

He nodded and she fell into step beside him as they headed outside.

Daryl couldn't think of anything to say. He'd never spent all that much time actually talking to a woman. Not that very many had ever wanted to talk to him.

No woman had ever tripped him up so much either. This one had him all flustered, and he barely knew her.

They reached the gardens without having spoken a word, but she didn't seem to be upset.

Daryl took that as encouragement.

"What did you do before you were married?"

He'd never been so nosy, either. But she interested him.

"I worked over at the library. Dad died when I was eighteen, so I had to find some place that would take me right away. The ladies at the library gave me a chance, and soon enough it was like I'd always been there. I stayed there til the day Ed took me away from here."

"The place suits you. You must've loved it."

"I did. I still do. I've always been a reader, so it was the perfect place for me. What's better than being paid for getting lost in a story everyday?"

"My mother loved stories. We used to read together all the time. She took me there, once, just for the day. Only trip she and I ever took before she got really sick."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when she put her arm through his, but he didn't pull away. She felt nice, pressed against his side.

"What do you do for work Daryl?"

"Odds and ends. Hunt, mostly. Keep the local wildlife population down. Sometimes I'll get called in for some animal control work too. Between that, and some of the crops we got on the land, I get by."

"Your brother isn't around much?"

"No. If he's not out causing trouble, he's home and high off his ass."

"So that's why you have to take care of him."

"That's why."

"Do you ever think about getting away?"

"All the time. And I would if he didn't need me. Someone's gotta look out for him, but if Merle ever cleaned up, I'd like to move somewhere I could farm all the time. Live a simple life."

"Sounds nice."

"What about if you do leave Ed?"

"Well, my life was here. I'd like it to be again, at least for a little while, but I'm scared that he could find me."

Daryl felt sick at the thought. He didn't know her husband, but he'd have liked nothing more right then than to beat the piss out of the guy.

"Ideally, I'd like to go somewhere new. Someplace with views for miles, where I could work in a library again, or maybe a book shop."

"Sounds pretty good."

They'd reached the end of the footpath, and were back at the hotel's patio. There were several tables and chairs still available.

"You wanna eat out here?"

. . .

Carol couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a nice dinner.

They had a small table to themselves, and the lanterns scattered around the patio were casting a soft glow over everything.

It was quiet again. They were just enjoying one another's company.

Daryl sat close enough to her that she could feel his warmth. It had felt so nice to lean on his arm earlier. He had been all lean muscle, but he'd gently taken her weight and she had felt so safe.

She couldn't believe how close she felt to him. They'd known each other less than a day. It was ridiculous.

But they'd both known suffering. So they understood each other. Maybe that's all they needed. The rest could follow.

Carol felt a small shiver go up her spine. The rest? She was silly, imagining this thing they had going anywhere. He'd been nothing but kind, but that was all.

She shook her head and looked at him, only to find him watching her.

His eyes were dark, and his stare was intense. The heat from his gaze made her shift in her seat.

No man had ever looked at her like that.

. . .

Daryl walked her to her door later that night.

They'd spent some more time talking after dinner. He'd never talked so much in his entire life, and was surprised to find that he had so much to say to her. Being with her was easy though, and she was a good listener.

He'd been startled when she'd caught him staring at her so openly, but he hadn't been able to help himself. He'd never seen any woman look so beautiful like she had in that soft light.

His desire for her hit him again, and he nearly stumbled with the force of it.

This was crazy.

He had met her that morning. They barely knew anything about each other. They were strangers.

But they did know pain, and loneliness, and they had shared theirs with each other.

That mattered.

"This is me," she said, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.

She leaned back against her door and he found himself leaning a little closer to her.

"Can we meet again tomorrow, Daryl? Today was so wonderful."

"I'd like that. You okay if we go to the library again?"

She nodded and leaned into him, kissing his cheek.

Before he could really think about it, he turned his head and kissed her lips. A jolt went through his stomach. Perfect. She was so perfect.

He broke away before she could really kiss him back, wished her goodnight, and went to his own room.

. . .

Carol had never been nervous inside the library before.

But then again she'd never given the grand tour to a man she had only met the previous day and who had kissed her soundly at the end of it.

Her palms were sweaty.

Thankfully, he seemed kind of nervous too. It made her feel a bit better.

"Now this, this is my favorite section."

"Thought you said that was poetry."

"Okay, so they're tied for first place."

"What's special about this one then?"

"These stacks are devoted to the classics, and this shelf right here is just for Jane Austen."

"Not familiar, sorry."

"Pride and Prejudice? Sense and Sensibility?"

He shrugged.

"Momma wasn't a novel reading type of gal. Poems, legends, and historical stuff. That was it for her."

"That's too bad. Austen is lovely. She wrote my absolute favorite book."

Carol reached up and took down one of the library's copies of _Persuasion_, handing it to Daryl.

"What's it about?"

"A woman named Anne Elliot, who gets a second chance with the man she loves. She was engaged to him once, but was persuaded to give him up. When he comes back eight years later, they have to get to know each other all over again, but they realize that they could never love anyone else."

"This lady, she was into happy endings?"

"Yeah. I've always liked to think that she figured there's enough sadness in life; our books might as well have nice endings."

Daryl turned the book over in his hands.

"You still got a library card?"

"No, but they'll let us sign up at the desk, if you want to."

"Good. I'm gonna check this one out."

Carol felt a surge of warmth in her chest. She didn't think it would be his type of book, but loved that he was giving it a chance anyway.

She reached up and pulled another copy of the same book down. At his curious look, she smiled and leaned in close to him.

"We've got time. We might as well read it together."

. . .

She brought him to one last place before they left.

"And this is 'History.'"

Daryl let out a low whistle, and they heard a distant "Shh!"

Carol did her best to stifle her laughter behind a hand.

"This is massive."

"They've got everyone and everything here, from John Adams to Ulrich Zwingli."

Daryl led the way into the stacks, and soon they were in a little world all their own.

"I didn't get to see this when I was a kid."

"This part's been expanded in the last five years. They've really widened their selection. Lots of history buffs in this town."

They wandered around for a time, content with browsing the titles.

"Carol, can I ask you something? Mind, I'm just curious."

"Sure, go ahead."

"How'd you pay for the hotel? Or this trip? Seems to me like Ed has say over your finances."

"Well, he does. Mostly. But I have some money that he doesn't know about. My parents left it to me, and I added to it while I was working here. There's enough for me to start over, in case I have to."

Neither of them commented on how she had gotten married but kept a contingency plan.

They stopped walking, and she was surprised when he reached over and took her hand. His calloused fingers felt good as they intertwined with hers. He was gentle in his touch.

His eyes sought hers, asking silent permission.

She gave a small nod, and he leaned down and kissed her. He was more hesitant than he had been the night before, but there was more passion this time as well.

Daryl took her bottom lip between his, and she let out a whimper. He pulled her a little closer, and she opened her mouth. His tongue met hers and she barely kept herself from moaning out loud.

When they finally broke apart for some air, they were both breathing heavily.

"Sorry. I don't know… I'm not usually like this."

She laughed and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Neither am I. But don't you be sorry."

"Are you sure?"

She kissed him again.

"Positive."

. . .

The days after that passed in a happy blur for Daryl.

Part of him was in shock over it, because his life wasn't supposed to be a happy one. He was a good for nothing Dixon.

Carol didn't seem to care, though. He had told her about Merle, and his drug peddling, but she had told him the only thing that mattered to her was that Daryl wasn't like Merle, that his work was honest, and that he was there with her.

This woman was either amazing or crazy.

Daryl knew it was the former. She had seen a lot of sadness in her life, but she was still so kind, and so gentle. She was plain-spoken and strong too, even if she was quiet most of the time. When she said something, she meant it.

And, for some reason, she cared about him.

He would never have revealed so much of himself to anyone else, but she got under his skin and he found he didn't mind one bit.

She'd decided that she was leaving Ed. She was tired of being treated like dirt by a man who was supposed to love her.

He felt that maybe he could love her. He'd never felt a connection like this before; he knew it meant something more.

That thought had given Daryl the push he needed.

He would break free too.

Carol would be fine on her own for a few hours. He and Merle lived just on the other side of Atlanta. He could go to the house and get his things; all their money was in his name, but he'd leave some for Merle to last him a while.

And then he could start over too.

. . .

Carol wandered around on her own at the library for a couple hours, visiting some old friends.

They were all a little too thrilled that she was leaving Ed. She thought that maybe they should have told her their real opinions about him a long time ago.

But, she was offered some temporary work there, doing the morning shift, until she could save enough to pull up stakes.

The money she had wouldn't last forever, so it couldn't hurt to save up some more.

She'd need enough to help Daryl out too. He would need to find work wherever they went, and she wanted to do her part just as much as he did.

She couldn't believe how quickly everything was moving, but it felt right. Somehow, there was something real between them, a true connection that she'd never had with anyone else before. They could talk without speaking, and had shared so much of themselves already.

Carol could tell that he wasn't the type of man who normally did that. So, for Daryl to give her so much of himself, he must have been thinking that she was someone special.

For the first time in years, Carol felt good. She felt like she was worth something, and that she mattered.

She hoped more than anything that she made Daryl feel the same way.

He'd gone to pack up his belongings, so maybe she did.

There were still a couple hours before he'd be back, so once she had wrapped things up at the library, she walked into downtown proper.

She had a little shopping to do.

. . .

There was a note waiting for him at the front desk when Daryl got back.

_Went out and did some shopping. I'll see you for dinner._

He thanked the clerk and went up to his room.

There hadn't been all that much for him to do at home. He didn't have many personal belongings. He'd packed up some clothes and most of his gear. Anything else he might need he could just pick up wherever he and Carol decided to go.

As for Merle, Daryl had left him an envelope with some money in it. He'd get the hint.

Besides, Daryl hadn't been able to think of anything to say. Merle was his brother, and Daryl would always have his back, but that was the end of it. He couldn't clean up Merle's mess forever; he wanted to be his own man for a change.

He couldn't quite believe he was really going through with this.

But Carol deserved a fresh start, and he wanted to make one with her. He wanted to take care of her from now on, and hoped that maybe she could look out for him.

. . .

Carol looked at herself in the mirror and tried not to feel foolish.

She'd gone out and bought a dress for tonight.

It was the first one she'd put on since her wedding.

When she'd picked it up, she had thought it was perfect for her fresh start. No more frumpy clothes for her. She could wear whatever she wanted now.

Besides, she knew tonight was going to change everything.

Whatever was coming next, they'd be facing it together.

. . .

Daryl thought his jaw would hit the floor when Carol came out of her room in that dress.

It wasn't anything too fancy, but it was the same color as her eyes, and it showed off her figure in every way that counted.

His eyes trailed down her long legs and he gulped.

There was no way he was going to be able to concentrate tonight.

. . .

They went to a quiet place just a few blocks from the hotel. There weren't many people, it being the off-season, but they both liked it that way.

Once their food came, they settled in to really talk.

"What do you want to do next?"

"Well, I went to the library earlier today, and Lucy said I could take the morning shift a few days a week, save up some money."

"You don't have to. I got enough to help us get started."

"I know. I just wanted to make sure we had enough to be getting on with."

"That's fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Might as well be smart about this, right?"

She smiled at him and reached across the table to take his hand.

"Do you have any idea where we might go?" she asked.

"Depends. You wanna stay in Georgia? Or go someplace else?"

"I think we should try someplace else. You seem to have something in mind."

"How about up north somewhere?"

"How far north are you thinking?"

"My… my mom's parents came from Maine. Kittery. She always talked about going back there someday. Missed the snow."

"I would like to see more of a seasonal change."

"You mean it?"

"I mean it. As long as I go with you, I know I'll be happy."

He smiled at her now.

"You've been thinking about going there a long time, haven't you?"

"Yeah."

"Well then. Tell me about Kittery."

. . .

They'd talked about her checking out of her room and into his the next day, and Daryl had told himself that he knew exactly where they were heading.

But as he led her by the hand to his room that night, he was nervous.

He'd been with other women, but never like this.

Carol mattered to him.

It was different.

He slid his key card into the door, and allowed her to step inside ahead of him.

She turned and met his eyes, blushing but unflinching.

Daryl reached out, his hands shaking a little, and put his arms around her waist. She allowed him to pull her closer, slipping her arms around his neck. He leaned down and kissed her, and she sighed.

His nerves were of a different kind now. He wanted this to be good for her; he wanted to show her what she meant to him already.

Keeping her pressed close, he backed them up until she was against the wall, their kiss becoming more heated by the second. She slid her tongue into his mouth, and he moved his hand up to cup her breast. She arched up into his touch, and the sound she made nearly cost him his fragile control.

His other hand went to her thigh and hitched her leg up until her hips met his.

Carol let out a gasp when he pressed against her center and bucked against him.

"Bed. Daryl, please."

He huffed out a laugh.

"Since you asked so nicely."

Daryl picked her up and they nearly toppled over onto the bed.

"So that wasn't exactly my most graceful moment."

She laughed out loud, but not unkindly.

He held a hand up to her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

"Graceful's overrated anyway."

She craned her neck up and kissed him again.

He lowered them both down onto the mattress, his lips moving to her neck and to the V of her neckline.

His hands went to the hem of her dress, and he looked back into her eyes. She nodded, and he raised the fabric up over her head.

She wasn't wearing a bra, and the only thing keeping him from seeing all of her was a flimsy pair of panties.

Daryl had to stop a moment and just take in the sight of her, lips swollen from his kisses and chest heaving with the effort to catch her breath.

"You're so perfect Carol. You don't even know."

He leaned down again, his mouth moving to one breast and then the other, taking his time to suckle and breathe kisses over each of them until she was panting and writhing beneath him.

Whatever control she had had snapped then, and she practically ripped his shirt over his head.

There were enough scars on his chest and stomach to shock anyone, but she didn't even bat an eyelash.

She trailed her hands down his front, and teased his zipper down. Reaching into his pants, she wrapped her hand around him and he thrust into her grip.

"Damn woman, you trying to kill me?" he ground out.

His lips crashed into hers again as she laughed and between the two of them they made short work of the rest of his clothing.

He moved over her again, reveling in the feel of their naked chests pressing together and the way her legs wrapped around his waist.

His lips didn't leave hers and his hand slid up her thigh and between her legs, his palm pressing against the damp fabric that was now the last barrier between them. She moaned and moved her hips, seeking some friction against his hand.

There was no going back.

He helped her shimmy out of her panties, and before either of them could think about it, his hips pressed forward and he had buried himself inside of her.

They both cried out, and then began to move together.

He couldn't think anymore.

The only things he knew were the hot slide of her flesh against his and the sounds of their labored breathing.

. . .

She lay curled against him afterward, trailing her fingers over the scars on his chest.

Carol had only ever been with one man before Ed: her high school boyfriend, Tom.

Nothing she had shared with either of them, especially Ed, had even come close to the way Daryl made her feel.

"It's never been like that for me," he admitted, seeming to read her thoughts.

"Me neither," she said, her fingers dancing along a scar at his collarbone.

He watched her progress with lazy, happy eyes.

"They don't bother you?"

"No. They're a part of you. Part of your story."

She pressed a kiss to one of the few clear spaces left, right over his heart.

"Long as you keep this space open for me."

. . .

Her phone rang fairly early the next morning, startling them both out of sleep.

Carol knew it was Ed; he was the only one who had her number.

He was supposed to be coming home that day. He'd probably found the empty house and her missing suitcase.

She wasn't about to pick up the phone.

Daryl's arm slid around her waist, and she felt a little less panicked. Ed couldn't do anything to her now, or ever again.

The phone chimed. She had a voicemail.

"Hey. There's been some complications with Mom's will, and with the house, so I'll be out here a couple more weeks. Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone."

"Ed's still gonna be at his mother's for a while yet," she said, shutting the phone off and putting it in the drawer this time.

"Your secret's safe a little longer then."

"Does this mean you're my dirty secret?"

She turned and rolled them over so that she was resting on top of him.

"Don't write checks you can't cash honey."

Carol gave him a wicked grin and kissed him.

. . .

_10 Days Later_

Daryl finished the page he was reading and closed the book he held in his hands. Carol had already finished _Persuasion_ a few days before, so he'd been trying to catch up before she had to go to the library for her shift.

"So? What'd you think?"

"I think that eight years is an awful long time to hurt like that."

"Did you like it though?"

He took her hand in his, running his thumb gently over her knuckles.

"They got a second chance. Ain't nothing better than that."

She smiled at him, and Daryl knew he'd never love anyone as much as he loved Carol right then and there. The thought was scary as all hell, but he knew she was feeling the same things.

Carol looked at him like the girl in the book looked at her man, and he'd do anything to make sure that never changed.

. . .

Carol heard footsteps coming towards her.

Daryl; he was the only one who'd be wearing work boots in the library at that time of day.

Sure enough, he rounded a corner and smiled when he saw her.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I'm looking for a book."

He came over and kissed her.

"Really? Anything specific?"

His arms went to her sides and he backed her up against the shelves, nuzzling her neck.

"Nope. Just browsing."

She hummed appreciatively as his lips worked their way down to the collar of her blouse.

The press of the shelving against her back reminded her of just where they were.

"Daryl."

"We'll be quiet."

"It's not that. I just mean, it's summer, so… there'll be less people around in the reference section."

"You're doing this whole sexy librarian thing way too much justice."

. . .

A few more days, and Daryl figured they'd have everything they needed to pick up stakes and go.

They'd gotten a couple bus tickets for the coming week, they'd booked a room in Kittery, and they had both been busy pouring through the want ads and real estate papers. They'd both found some promising leads.

Carol just wanted to finish out the week at the library, and Daryl had agreed. They didn't know how long it would take them to find work once they got to Maine, so every penny would help.

They were walking in the hotel's garden again, taking a break and enjoying the afternoon.

"You sure you don't want me to find some day work?"

"You've been busy enough Daryl, arranging things. Enjoy this. This'll probably be the last vacation we both take for a while."

"Well, there goes Disney World."

She swatted his arm.

"Smartass."

There were hurried footsteps on the path behind them, and the man who worked the front desk skidded to a stop once he had reached them.

"Mr. Dixon, there's an urgent call for you. Someone named Jim. He says it's your brother."

"Damn it," Daryl growled, and followed the man back to the hotel.

Carol watched him go, feeling a deep dread settling into her stomach.

. . .

"Are you sure I can't come with you?"

Daryl tossed another shirt into his overnight bag.

"You really shouldn't. Merle's just pissed I'm finally gettin' out on my own. I'll go patch things up, calm him down, and be back before you know it. Couple days. Tops."

At least, he hoped he would be. Jim wouldn't have called if things weren't pretty bad. They'd been neighbors all their lives, so he was used to Merle going on a bender. If Jim was worried, Merle was pretty fucked up.

He took the envelope he'd been keeping in his bag and handed it to Carol.

"If something happens, open this. But only if I don't come back, okay?"

There were tears on her face as she nodded.

"Please be careful."

She stood and put her arms around his neck, kissing him.

"I love you," she breathed against his lips.

He had never said those words. Ever.

But Carol deserved them, even if they were coming from the likes of him.

"I love you. So much."

He kissed her again and picked up his bag.

"I'll be back."

Daryl could feel her eyes on his back as he walked out.

In the years to come, he would wish that he had looked back, even for just a second, because it was the last time he ever saw her.

. . .

Merle was on the roof when he got home, holding a hunting knife in his hands and screaming up at the sky.

Jim was on the ground, pacing, phone in his hands.

Daryl threw his truck into park and jumped out.

"Jim! You called the cops?"

"Not yet. But if he gets worse I'm gonna have to."

"Give me a minute. I'll get him down."

Daryl went inside the house and ran up to the attic, where he climbed the small flight of stairs that let out onto the roof.

"Merle! What the fuck you doing up here?"

His brother turned around, and Daryl tried to gauge just how badly off he was. His pupils were huge and his breathing was erratic. Pretty bad then.

"You thought I was just gonna let you leave, baby brother? Who the fuck you think you are, running away?"

"I'm gonna make something of myself. Get away from you."

"You're never gonna be anything, Darlena. Your place is here, taking care of your kin. Not some slut you picked up in Decatur."

Daryl's blood ran cold.

He knew Merle was in with some bad people, but he had had no idea just how far his brother's influence in the underworld had stretched.

"She has nothing to do with this. I left on my own."

"You was just on vacation. And then you got some tail and decided you liked her better than your brother, than the only real family you got left."

"Shut the fuck up Merle. This shit's gone on long enough."

Daryl looked down to where Jim was standing, watching them anxiously.

"You better put that call in Jim! There's not much I'm gonna be able to fix here."

He should never have looked away.

Merle's fist collided with the side of his face and Daryl lost his balance. He reached out to his brother to steady himself, but Merle took the knife and plunged it into Daryl's chest.

It didn't go too deep, but the blade sliced into the area right above his heart, and it hurt like a bitch.

Merle pulled the knife out and smirked at Daryl.

"Better watch your step, little brother."

He shoved Daryl, hard, and suddenly he was falling.

There was a whooshing sound, Merle's laughter, and then pain like Daryl had never known before.

Thankfully, he didn't know it for too long before the world went black.

. . .

Carol did her best to wait patiently for two days.

Daryl had said he would be gone for a couple days, tops. He should have been back already, or at least called the hotel to let her know he would be delayed.

Night fell on the second day, and she couldn't take it anymore.

She went to the nightstand, where she had put the envelope he had given her.

There was a scrap of paper inside, with a P.O. Box and telephone number on it. Beneath that, Daryl had written in his neat scrawl:

_If I'm not back, call that number and ask for Jim. He'll help._

_P.S. Got you a present._

She looked back inside the envelope, and pulled out a small gold cross on a chain.

_They'd passed that jewelry store countless times on their walks, and every time her eyes had been drawn to the display window._

"_What do you keep looking at?"_

_She pointed to a little gold cross on display._

"_It's just…my mother had one just like it. We buried her with it, and I've wished ever since that I still had it with me. So I had just a little piece left of the good times."_

He'd remembered.

Tears coursed down her face as she slipped the chain over her head and tucked the cross into her blouse.

She wasn't going to wait anymore. It was time to go get him.

Carol picked up the bag she had packed just in case and went to the door, determined not to come back without Daryl.

When she opened the door, though, there was a man on the other side.

A big man, with close cut hair and the same blue eyes as Daryl had. Except his were cold and hateful.

"Merle."

He chuckled, and she did her best to hide the shiver it sent through her.

"Nice to meet you, Carol," he said.

He noticed the bag she held in her hands.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

She shrugged.

"Out."

Merle clapped a hand on her shoulder and she tried not to flinch.

"No, you're not. You're goin' lookin' for my little brother," he growled, moving forward and forcing her back into the room.

"But he's not coming back, honey. He's awful hurt, you see. Hospital's gonna be keepin' an eye on him for a few more days yet."

"What did you do to him?" she hissed.

"Wasn't my fault the clumsy bastard slipped off the roof."

She gasped and her bag fell from her now slack fingers.

"Oh, he's gonna be fine, don't you worry."

Carol dodged around him and went for the phone.

Merle wrenched it from her hand and slammed the receiver back into its cradle.

"Now, who would you be calling? I know it's not the police. We don't want to get them involved. Daryl might not be so fine anymore."

"You bastard. You wouldn't."

He took her face roughly in his hand and squeezed before throwing her down onto the bed.

"You ever come around him again, and you'll see."

He leaned over her, his face hovering over hers just a breath away.

"You show your face anywhere near him, or me, and he dies. I'm not kidding."

Merle gave her another vicious shove and left the room, laughing.

Carol curled into a ball right there on the bed and cried until exhaustion took her.

. . .

Daryl woke up to the beeping of a heart monitor.

He tried to rub his bleary eyes, but his arms were like lead and he gave up the effort after a couple of fruitless tries.

His whole body was agony. He was sore everywhere, and it felt like there was an elephant sitting on his torso and chest.

"Best not move too much baby brother. You got half a dozen broke ribs and a nasty ass cut on your chest," Merle said from where he was sitting by Daryl's bedside.

Everything came back to him then, and a jolt of panic went through him.

Carol.

He'd been out of it for who knew how long, and she was still back in Decatur, waiting for him.

Merle seemed to read his thoughts.

"Your lady friend is just fine. In fact, I paid her a visit, introduced myself."

His brother was damn lucky that Daryl wasn't able to move just then.

"What did you do Merle?"

"I just talked with her a while. Gave her a friendly warning."

"If you hurt her, I will kill you."

Merle laughed out loud.

"Now's not the time for empty threats, sweetheart."

He moved to sit on the bed, and leaned over Daryl.

"She knows her place now, and it's time you remembered yours."

His brother pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and read aloud.

"Carol Peletier. 19 Forest Way, Druid Hills," he said, smirking down at Daryl.

"I know where she lives, and when the best times are to find her at home and alone."

He leaned down and hissed his next words right over Daryl's face, spit flying from his mouth.

"You _ever_ try to leave me behind again, and I might just pay her a little visit."

With that, Merle got up and left the room, whistling.

Daryl prided himself on not being an emotional man, but he couldn't help the tears that leaked from his eyes.

Over.

His life was over.

. . .

For the next few days, Carol was lost.

Without Daryl, moving to Kittery had lost its appeal. She didn't want to go back to her husband, but she didn't have much inclination to strike out on her own anymore either.

She'd gotten a taste of what her life might have been like with Daryl, and now, anything else just seemed cheap and empty.

Her stomach churned and she held a hand over her mouth until the fit of nausea had passed.

Carol had felt sick since Daryl had gone. At first, she'd thought it was just because she was so upset, but it looked like she was well and truly sick with something.

An odd thought came to her mind then, and she looked at the calendar hanging on the wall.

Her stomach churned again, but with what she wasn't too sure.

She was two weeks late.

. . .

Pregnant.

She looked at the little stick she held in her hands for a very long time, unwilling to believe that it was true.

A baby. She was going to have a baby.

Daryl's.

If she had thought she had cried herself out before, she was wrong.

. . .

In the end, she went back home.

Ed was due to return the following day, and after giving it a lot of thought, Carol had figured that maybe things would just be better this way.

Her baby was going to need a father, and a stable place to live.

She had meant what she said about her life being empty without Daryl, so it didn't really matter where she went to live anyway. Her child would be her life from now on, and she had a responsibility to the little life that was growing inside of her.

Ed would come home, she would let him touch her (just this one last time, she just had to endure him one more time), and then she could wait a couple more weeks before telling him.

He would think the baby was his, and he would never think to do the math.

Besides, maybe the child would bring out the best in him.

Before she left the hotel, she sent something out in the mail, addressed to the P.O. Box Daryl had left with her.

Hopefully, Merle would not find out about it.

. . .

Daryl was on his own again.

Merle had taken off as soon as Daryl had been released from the hospital, so it was up to Jim to check up on Daryl while he recovered.

He didn't much care either way.

Without Carol around, he didn't care about much of anything.

His life stretched before him, empty and loveless. He would look after Merle for as many years as he had left, because his brother was a piece of shit but he was kin. And he really was the only person Daryl had left, now that he'd lost Carol.

And keeping Merle happy would keep her safe, because Daryl didn't doubt for one second that Merle would make good on his threat.

He was sitting in the kitchen, staring down at his hands resting on the tabletop when there was a knock on the back door.

Only person it could be was Jim.

"It's open!"

His neighbor stepped in, holding a small package.

"Went to the post office for ya. You got a present, I think."

Daryl snorted.

"Like anyone's gonna send me a gift."

Jim just shrugged.

"You need anything, man?"

"Naw."

"Okay. Call if you do."

"Thanks Jim."

Jim nodded and left Daryl alone. He'd been pretty good about giving Daryl his space.

Daryl looked at the package and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw Carol's handwriting on the front.

He tore the brown paper open, and saw that she had sent him a copy of _Persuasion_.

With a shaking hand, he opened the cover and saw that she had written something inside:

_We might have to wait a bit longer than eight years_.

Daryl put his head in his hands and let his grief take him.


	2. What's Before

A/N: There's something of a light at the end here, I promise. This chapter will be much shorter though, because it's really just an epilogue.

This takes place just as the series is picking up.

I own nothing!

**Chapter Two: What's Before**

_13 Years Later_

Carol looked out of the window of the small apartment she shared with Sophia.

Those…_things_ were still roaming the street, and there were even more of them than there had been earlier.

Sophia came over to her and Carol held her close.

"What are we going to do, Mommy?"

Other than barricading the door and biding their time, Carol had no idea.

She knew she couldn't defend their position, not really.

It figured that when she finally found the courage to leave her abusive marriage, to do right by her daughter and start over, that the damn world ended.

Her hand went to her throat, where she still wore the gold cross that Daryl had given her. She would be a lot less scared if he were here. Daryl would know what to do.

There was a pounding on the door, making both her and Sophia jump.

"Carol! Sophia!"

Ed.

Carol told Sophia to stay put and cautiously made her way to the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw her husband, sober for the first time in who knew how long, holding a bloodied baseball bat and breathing heavily.

"Carol, please let me in. I came to get you both. We gotta get out of the city, find a safer spot. Military's coming in, and things don't look good."

Well, the world had ended, so maybe it was possible that Ed had finally come around and decided to be a man.

. . .

Daryl loaded the last of their bags into his truck and went to help Merle load his bike in the back.

"You sure we're gonna need this thing?"

"I ain't leaving the bike."

Deciding that now was not the best time to argue, given the pounding on the outside of the garage, Daryl gave him a hand and then they both got into the truck.

Daryl took the wheel, Merle still being in no shape to drive. Jim had come to help Daryl convince Merle that they had to leave, but his neighbor had gone back to help his family when the dead had started to swarm. Daryl didn't know what had happened, but the odds weren't very good for Jim or his family.

"Where you takin' us, baby brother?"

"There's a quarry on the outskirts of the city. We can set up a defensible position there."

The garage door finally gave way, and the creatures began to pour in.

Daryl gunned the engine and tried to ignore the moans of the dead as he peeled out.

. . .

Carol watched as they bombed Atlanta and let the tears fall.

Sophia and Carl were both pressed close to her side.

They'd met up with Lori, Carl, and Shane a few hours before, when they had all gotten stuck in the traffic that they all now knew wasn't going anywhere. Deciding that there was more safety in numbers, they had decided to stick together.

Lori and Shane had gone on ahead to see what was happening, but apparently they really hadn't needed to.

Ed was already getting antsy, and his old attitude had come back in spades. Carol would always be grateful that he had gotten them out of town; it was the only good he had ever done her or Sophia.

But obviously the change was not a lasting one for him.

"Mrs. Peletier?"

"You can call me Carol, honey."

"Carol, you don't think my mom and Shane got close enough to that to get hurt, do you?"

She felt a stab of sympathy for the boy. He'd lost his father, his home, and the only life he'd ever known. He was terrified.

"No honey. They just went up ahead a bit. They'll be back soon, you'll see."

He relaxed against her.

Sophia rested her head on her shoulder, sniffling.

Carol felt tears come to her eyes again, at the thought that her baby had in all likelihood lost her father too. Too many people had died for her to think that Daryl was somehow alive and well somewhere.

. . .

Shane and Lori came back soon after that, and they all knew that they needed to get off the highway, in case any of those planes came back.

"There was an exit a couple miles back, leads to a quarry just outside the city," Shane said.

"I know the spot. Should be easy enough to defend, and we're high up so we can see anything that might be coming up the road," Ed said.

It sounded like a smart enough option, so they got into their vehicles and crossed over the grassy divide in the middle of the highway, heading back the way they had come.

Carol wondered how long it would be before Ed fully fell back into his old ways. He'd already scolded her about trying to give Carl some food, and he kept shooting her dirty looks as they followed along behind Shane.

Maybe the presence of the others would keep him from beating her too badly for whatever imaginary offense she had committed.

. . .

Daryl drove along the back roads, knowing that the highway was going to be a disaster.

He took it slowly, not exactly wanting to have an accident and wind up stuck in the forest right in the middle of what was probably hostile territory. Everywhere was hostile these days.

His hand scratched absently on the old scar over his heart. It had become habit over the years, whenever he was worried.

For the thousandth time since the dead had started to walk, his thoughts turned to Carol, wondering if she was safe, if she had found somewhere to wait this nightmare out, if she was even alive.

Daryl knew the odds of that weren't very good, and he wasn't a hoping and praying sort of man, but he wanted more than anything for her to still be alive somewhere.

Not like he'd ever see her again, though.

. . .

There were already some other people setting up camp when they got there.

Everyone seemed glad enough to welcome them, though.

Once they had set up their tent, Ed went inside. Carol took Sophia with her to help Lori and Shane, and then they all went to meet the others who would be sharing camp with them.

Let Ed sit on his lazy ass.

She had other people around her now, and that was enough to make her feel braver than she had for a long time.

The others turned out to be friendly enough, even though they all seemed as scared as Carol. No one really knew what was going on, why the dead were walking, but they all figured that if they could just wait things out and make a stand, then someone would be along to help.

Dale, Amy, and Andrea were staying in the RV, and Dale offered everyone free use of whatever they needed. Shane also suggested that they set up a watch, so someone would always be sitting up on top of the camper keeping an eye on things and making sure the dead didn't wander into the camp.

Morales and his family were kind as well, and Sophia made friends with their daughter. She was already getting along very well with Carl, and for that Carol was grateful.

Then there was Theodore, who liked to go by T-Dog, and Jacqui, and Jim. Jim seemed a little too quiet, but T-Dog whispered to her that he had had to leave his neighbors behind in their garage while the dead swarmed outside, and then had watched his entire family die. Carol's heart went out to the man.

Her favorite new person was Glenn. Despite everything that had happened, and the fire they had just seen dropped into the streets of Atlanta, Glenn seemed truly happy to meet them. Like he was just glad to be able to talk to anybody. She hoped they would be watch buddies. They'd get along fairly well, she knew.

Dale and Shane agreed to take first watch, and everyone was so exhausted that they took to their tents, trying to find some peace in sleep.

. . .

Daryl pulled the truck up to the quarry very early the next morning.

There was already a camp there.

He didn't mind, but he looked over at Merle, trying to gauge his brother's reaction.

Merle rolled his eyes, but offered no other resistance.

There was an RV there, and the man sitting on top came down to greet them. Other people were poking their heads out of their tents, the truck's engine having woken them up.

Daryl steeled himself for the inevitable introductions, hoping that Merle wouldn't be too much of an ass. He didn't feel like getting kicked out, not when they'd just arrived.

Everyone came and introduced themselves, and he was told that the only people missing were a couple of women and a little girl, who had gone down to do some of the washing and would be back soon.

"Daryl!"

He had never thought he would hear that voice again.

"Jim!"

His neighbor, who he had thought to be dead, came over and shook his hand warmly. They went off to set up a tent a little ways away from the others, Merle following close behind.

"Did you…did you get back in time?"

The look on Jim's face said it all, and Daryl let the subject drop.

Once they had gotten the tent set up, Jim offered to help Merle unpack the truck while Daryl went to talk to Shane, offer to do some hunting and pull his weight. Jim's hand on Daryl's arm held him back for a second though.

"Daryl, I'm sorry about the garage. I should never have just left you and Merle like that."

"You were going back for your kin. Nothin' to be sorry for there."

. . .

Shane agreed to have Daryl take care of the hunting, but told him that they were more than full up for the time being. It could wait a couple of days.

Merle had long since disappeared into their tent, so he could sleep off whatever it was he had gotten into the night before (Daryl still wasn't very sure). He knew Shane was keeping a close eye on his brother. The man had been a cop, and he had known immediately what sort of man Merle was.

They would all think that Daryl was the same.

Let them.

He had long since stopped caring about that.

There was a noise along the path, and the sound of voices.

The women and girl were coming back, and they would be passing right by him.

Daryl looked up, preparing himself for another meet and greet, and he saw her.

Carol.

She was alive.

And she had a little girl with her, who looked just like her.

Except.

She had his eyes.

There were many things that Daryl had come to expect in those dark days, and none of them had been good.

But damn it if he wasn't suddenly happier than he'd ever been in his life.

. . .

Of all the people who could have wandered into their camp, Carol would never have expected to see the man standing before her.

Daryl was alive; he had made it.

She wanted to cry in relief, and with sadness as well, because she should have sent him news of Sophia.

Her girl had been the one joy in her life since she had last seen Daryl, and suddenly she felt very selfish for keeping that miracle all to herself.

Carol pulled Sophia close as Lori introduced herself.

She seemed to sense that something was off, because she excused herself, leaving Carol and Sophia alone with Daryl.

"Is this really happening?"

What a stupid thing to say. After everything that had passed between them, and the misery of their long separation, she couldn't even say hello? Carol felt foolish.

"Looks like."

Well, at least he was just as thrown as she was.

Sophia cleared her throat, reminding Carol of her manners.

"This is Sophia."

Sophia held her hand out, and Daryl took it.

Daryl knelt down and looked into Sophia's eyes very carefully.

Her daughter was her spitting image, but she had Daryl's eyes. They were the same china blue, and Sophia often had the same sly look on her face that Daryl had used to.

He was smart; maybe he would figure it out.

"Sophia, my name's Daryl. How old are you?"

"Twelve. Almost thirteen. How old are you?"

That shocked a laugh out of him.

"Too old to answer that question," he said, giving her a small smile.

If Carol didn't know better, she'd say he had tears in his eyes.

Daryl looked up at her, and she saw that he did.

He mouthed one word:

Mine?

Carol nodded, fingertips dancing over the cross still hanging around her neck. Daryl's eyes followed her movements, and Carol put her hand over her heart, and then the other on Sophia's shoulder, mouthing one word in return:

Yours.


End file.
